


'Cause There's Something Between Us, Anyway

by Helpbirdisdying



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alpha Claude von Riegan, Alpha Sylvain Jose Gautier, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Intersex Anatomy, M/M, Making Out, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Rituals, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Verse, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:28:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27103471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helpbirdisdying/pseuds/Helpbirdisdying
Summary: Mating season is here. Claude has to find an omega who's impressed enough to choose him. He's dreading it.Or, Claude is an alpha who experiences Comphet. Except instead of thinking he has to be with girls, he thinks he has to be with omegas.(title is from 'Something About Us' by daft punk)
Relationships: Sylvain Jose Gautier/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 9
Kudos: 75





	1. Mating Season

**Author's Note:**

> Just a heads up, Alphas are intersex! Just so there's no confusion. 
> 
> Special thanks to my Beta Readers, [](https://archiveofourown.org/users/medusianAllure/pseuds/medusianAllure)medusianAllure and [](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePhoenixWriter/pseuds/ThePhoenixWriter/works?fandom_id=23985107)ThePheonixWriter, and my test reader, Pipes!

It's the evening before Garland Moon begins, and mating season is almost upon Fodlan. Alphas are setting up their stations in the forest, decorated with colourful blankets and shining objects, flaunting their status. Wealth. Strength. Claude's always had an appreciation for the elements of a good Alpha display, being a rather flashy individual himself. It's served him well, this time, in allowing him to craft a display that will catch any omega's eye. Cream and gold are the colours he's chosen for himself; his personality is big enough to make up for the subtle colour palette. 

He checks the way he's lined up the trinkets again. It’s a little terrifying, knowing he's moving on to the next big chapter of his life. By the end of the month, an omega will have chosen him, and he'll impregnate them, and-

This intense mix of nausea and breathlessness...is that what all unmated alphas feel on this day? Before their lives change forever? Of course, it’s a bit different for Claude, he has to bring this omega back to a country foreign to them. He feels a little dumb for not pre-courting an omega, like Hilda did with Marianne, maybe then he’d feel less nervous. It’s just that whenever an omega reciprocated affections he tried to make, he’d always feel that attraction just...fade. He could never find someone it stuck around for. 

A sharp glint of red catches his eye, and he pauses and turns. 

The other Alpha is a redhead. He's a noble, too, judging by the amount of trinkets he has in his area, and the quality of the blankets around him. He’s muscular, and Claude can easily pick out his scent from the other alphas; cinnamon, cold air, and firewood.

Sylvain, that was his name right? Claude remembers him, from the academy. Always hiding something, it seemed like. Not unlike Claude himself, really. He watches as he sets up his nest, adorned with red fabric, shiny things, and his own clothing to ward off other alphas. Even with everyone enforcing space between them, and the trees partially obscuring the view of other alphas, many still felt the need to make 'their' territory smell as much like them as possible. 

Claude examines the construction of Sylvain's nest. It looks… Soft. Warm. It's full of pillows, and a tarp of sorts has been set up overhead for if the rain starts to happen too early. It looks like Sylvain could pull up an extra blanket with his chosen omega and snuggle in soundly, in their own little world, away from the other alphas and omegas in rut and heat… 

Claude snarls to himself. Sylvain made his nest too close to his. Whatever. Confronting him would probably result in both of them getting thrown out, and he can't afford that this year, with so many important omegas in play. 

(he hates how it feels like he's viewing his friends like slabs of meat at the market, especially when none of them look appetizing. Ruts are hell.)

… 

The first day goes off without a hitch. All the alphas are dressed in their sheer clothes and gems, half hard and dancing. Displaying. The cacophony of alpha and omega scents is suffocating, spurring each other further into heat and rut, making Claude's head spin. Still, he dances. Omegas come to see him, and he chats with them while everyone's coherent enough for that. He doesn't remember their faces; he's too focused on Sylvain.

Claude tries not to look too much, really, he doesn't. Sylvain's doing his own thing, and Claude should be doing his. But every time he so much as turns in his direction he feels…jealousy, that has to be it. Every flick of his hips, every spin, every flash of red and gold in the sunlight, it makes him feel…competitive. He wants to be _better_ than him. He's sure of it, yes. 

(Claude finds it hard to keep himself hard and slick throughout the day, but every time he looks at Sylvain, he finds it comes back full force. Alpha hormones are nuts.) 

No omegas try to choose him, they're not allowed until the third day. The knowledge of that fact looms over him, that omegas may already have him in mind to give a Garland to. He can always say no, of course, in fact he’s expected to be picky as an alpha of his status. But how many can he say no to before he blows his chances entirely? How will he know who to settle for? Maybe he should just…pick someone? Say he's attracted to them and that's the end of it? What a headache… 

… 

Claude's not sure what wakes him up. It's night, but he can still see thanks to lanterns lighting up the area. He sits up and stretches, keeping the blanket around him for warmth. He's long taken off his dancing outfit in favour of more practical night clothes, but the night still bites at him. 

He hears the shifting of chains in Sylvain's direction. Despite his better judgement, he turns. 

Sylvain is in his nightclothes, but also has his jewellery on. Is he…he's practicing. Isn't he exhausted from dancing enough as it is? Why's he practicing now? 

Claude watches, clutching the edge of his nest. Sylvain is…hypnotic. He knows how to move his body, every swish of his hips filled with purpose. He's light on his feet, despite the bulk of his muscles. It makes Claude uncomfortable, causes him to bite his lip and dig his nails into his palm. He shifts his thighs apart, they're too hot together. 

When Claude catches the brown glint of Sylvain's eyes turn towards him, he ducks below the barrier of his nest for reasons he doesn't quite understand.

… 

Day two arrives, it passes much the same as the first. It's no trouble for him physically to dance for omegas he doesn't desire, he's done enough songs and dances throughout his life to know how this one goes. It's still stressful emotionally, and makes him feel as though there's a ball and chain on his ankle he has to work around. 

He sees Lorenz wander by a few times. They make eye contact, and Lorenz presses his mouth into a thin line each time. Goddess, Claude ~~likes~~ _tolerates_ Lorenz well enough, but he doesn't know what he'd do if Lorenz chose him. Claude would basically be _expected_ to accept a proposal from someone as high in status as Lorenz, and rejecting him would be one hell of an insult. 

Sometimes, his eyes will wander over to Sylvain. Sometimes, brown eyes will stare back at him. Only for a moment, before turning back to whatever he was doing. Even during meals, when betas paid by the church bring them food and water so that they don't have to venture outside of their allotted area, he'll occasionally find Sylvain looking at him. Claude isn't sure what to make of it. 

He feels as though the omegas he displays for are leering at him. Maybe it's true, maybe it's not, it's becoming hard to tell. It makes him want to curl up in a nest and wither away into nothing. It seems preferable to the alternative. 

… 

At dinner that night, Claude sees a surprising familiar face. 

"Oh, hello, Dedue. I didn't realize you were affiliated with the Church." 

Dedue's much the same as Claude remembers. He has different hair, but the years have treated him well. He's dressed casually, in a cloak, tunic, and pants, and holding a tray of food for Claude. "I'm not. I'm just volunteering with the kitchen." 

"Oh, I see. Here, let me take that for you." Claude takes the tray from him. It's Daphnel Stew tonight, which makes Claude feel marginally better about tomorrow. "How's His Highness these days?" 

"He is…well enough," Dedue says.

"I haven't heard from him in a while, so that's good to hear, at least. I take it he's busy, then?" 

"Very much so. He told me to apologize for not responding to your letter in a timely manner, if I saw you. The Adrestian Empire has been taking up most of his time, they're arguing about who has cultural rights to certain dog breeds." 

"Ah, good old Edelgard and Dimitri…they never seem to agree, do they?" 

"No, it seems not," he chuckles. "Have you been to Faerghus recently? Ashe is opening an Inn that serves Duscur food."

"Oh really? The people won't revolt if anything Duscur sets foot in their cities?" 

"Hopefully not. I trust Ashe to be safe in his endeavors." 

"Of course, of course. I'll have to check it out." If he can get through this event without puking his guts up. 

"I'll be looking forward to seeing you." With that, Dedue leaves, and Claude is alone again. 

… 

Day three is when the omegas start bringing garlands. Every time Claude sees one, his stomach drops; any one of them could be for him. He should want it. _He should want it._ And yet… 

If things smelled of heat and rut before, it reeks of it now. Claude's half hard from it, even if the mingling of scents makes him want to vomit. He has a headache that could verge into a migraine. His only salvation is meditation during the mealtimes, and even then, it leaves him eating less than he should. 

The wish to have selection be simple floats through his head more than once. He hasn't seen Marianne at all, but she's probably given Hilda her Garland already. Hilda's probably displaying specifically with her in mind. If they didn't mate yet, they will soon. 

It's about midday when he sees Ignatz, of all people. He's clutching his Garland so hard, Claude's surprised it's not disintegrated, and he's pale and shaking. 

"Ignatz? Are you okay?" 

Ignatz jumps a good foot in the air before he identifies the voice. "Oh, Claude. Sorry, I just…I'm nervous." 

"I have some water, if you want it, you look like you're gonna be sick." 

"Oh, yes please," Ignatz says, sitting near Claude, but not near enough to be considered an advance. Claude pours out some water from his canteen into a glass, and holds it out to Ignatz, who's careful not to touch hands with him. 

Claude takes a deep breath in, then let's it out. "So, do you have an alpha in mind to give that Garland to?" 

Ignatz winces, "Not…really. I'm mostly here for…my paintings…"

"Your paintings?"

"Yeah…a lot of people are against an unclaimed omega travelling around. So maybe, if I can get claimed by an alpha, I can travel around without fear. For my paintings." 

"Oh, Ignatz…"

"I-I'd never ask you to do that, for the record! I know you need an omega that will stick around. I'm going to try for one of the poorer alphas, I think they might be more lenient."

Before Claude can respond, Ignatz stands and brushes himself off, "Well! ItwasnicetalkingtoyoubyeClaude!" Ignatz hurries off, bumping into Lorenz on his way out. They share a look Claude can't quite interpret, and then Ignatz leaves. 

He keeps watching Sylvain, too. Multiple omegas approach him throughout the day. He looks soft when he rejects a nervous Ignatz, and again with a shaking and stuttering Bernadetta. With everyone else, however, he has this icy expression. One that Claude knows hides disgust and pain. He knows it, because he's had that feeling every time he's heard Hilda say something _unfavourable_ about Almyrans. By the end of the day, Claude can't tell if the look on Sylvain's face is one of disappointment or relief. 

Was Sylvain also displaying with someone in mind? Who? Why haven't they given him a Garland yet? 

Wait, why does he even _care_? 

… 

Claude wakes up in the middle of the night. Nature's calling him, and he has to respond or he won't get back to sleep. He crawls out of his nest, over to a more secluded area of the woods, where he thinks he can pee in peace. 

'Thinks' is the key word here, because he catches the scent of an alpha not a moment before someone says, "Hey." 

Claude whirls around, barely having gotten himself back into his pants, only to see Sylvain. He's a respectable distance away, about fifteen to twenty feet. How had he not noticed sooner? 

"Hey yourself. " Claude enters a calm disposition as easily as breathing. "Am I in your way?" 

"Hm? Oh, you mean…yeah,you are a bit. But I actually wanted to ask you something." 

"Oh? And what's that?" 

"How about a dance display? Just the two of us. You've got some good moves, Reigan, and I'd love a good practice partner." 

They're both on the verge of full-on rut. Claude can feel it in himself, and he can smell it from Sylvain. He should be running, or standing his ground and baring his teeth. Sylvain shouldn’t be offering this to him now.

"Sure, why not? Meet you back at the nests."

…

By the time Claude's put his jewellery on, Sylvain’s finished up and sauntered back to his territory. He stands at the very border between his and Claude’s area, with a couple pieces of his own jewellery on. He cracks his back while Claude stretches his arms and legs.

“You ready?’ Sylvain asks when Claude stands straight.

“Ready if you are.”

That gets a ‘ha’ out of Sylvain, who then makes a move at Claude. Claude responds with his own, and from there, they move in tandem. It’s easy, even as their mutual ruts hit in full. It's scratching an itch Claude didn't know he had, just to exist with another alpha like this. Like he's dancing with a friend, even if he barely knows Sylvain. He's starting to understand why other alphas like displaying for omegas. 

Still, Claude is on guard, watching Sylvain move. He matches every hip thrust and spin with his own, and darts away whenever they get too close. He smells the pheromones in the air around them, but it's not the sickening mixture it was earlier in the day. Sylvain's scent is fresh, almost a relief, just a singular thing to focus on. Even as it envelopes Claude's senses, he doesn't find himself dreading it or feeling sick. 

Sylvain trails a hand up his leg, hip, side, in a sensual motion that makes Claude wish he were doing it to Sylvain, rather than Sylvain doing it himself. Claude retaliates with a sway of his hips, and a haughty spin. He hears Sylvain laugh, and feels eyes on him, and then it's not a display. It's having fun, it's dancing with a friend. They pay no mind to rhyme or rhythm, just move their bodies to a music no one else can hear, laughing all the while. 

Something warm and solid touches Claude's back and his hand is enveloped by another. When he opens his eyes, he's looking at Sylvain's arm. They're pressed back to chest, Claude can feel Sylvain quietly panting behind him. Claude curls the hand currently caught in Sylvain's; trying to think through the fog of rut is tiring, and his body wants something, but he's not sure he wants to think about what it is.

"Sylvain…" His voice sounds unfamiliar to him. It's too deep, too hoarse. Claude's suddenly aware that Sylvain is hard at his back, hot and heavy through his pants. He's also suddenly aware of his own hardness. How long has he been at full mast? 

"Claude, I-...I don't know what's wrong with me…" Claude turns to face him properly, but that turns into pressing their crotches together, and they both let out a little moan.

“Tell me to stop.” 

Sylvain’s mouth is slightly parted, his pupils are blown, and his flush runs down his chest. Claude’s sure he doesn’t look much better. He opens his mouth to say something, but the thought immediately goes out the window, because kissing Sylvain seems a lot more fun all of a sudden.

Despite his earlier words, he doesn’t fight it. If anything, he encourages it, grabbing Claude by the hips and holding him close. It's easy for him to back the both of them into Sylvain's nest. 

From there, it turns into a bit of a wrestling match. Sylvain's stronger, but it's only just, so they tussle for a while until Claude manages to get on top long enough to grind himself against Sylvain. He gasps and squirms, instead of trying to roll him over like he was about to do. 

He leans down and nips Sylvain's ear and neck while he works on the tie that holds Sylvain's pants up. Sylvain, in turn, works on Claude's pants, getting his erection free just as Claude tries to force Sylvain's pants down. With no fabric in the way, Claude can smell the slick that Sylvain's producing; it's much more than normal, and smells like rut. 

"I guess you like this, huh?" 

Sylvain raises an eyebrow, and has to feel his entrance, just behind his balls, to actually get what Claude means. "Huh, I guess I am."

Claude takes a moment to just look at Sylvain. His chest is flatter than any omega's would be, and his balls are bigger. A hand moving across Sylvain's chest reveals the firm muscle there, not the soft fat an omega or a female beta would have. He rubs a nipple, and is rewarded with a groan.

"Do you want me to keep touching there, or somewhere else?" 

Sylvain hums, then takes Claude's hand and yanks it down to his cunt. Well, that seems like as much of an answer as any. 

Claude's never touched anyone's entrance but his own, but he's surprised how different it feels. Sure, slick folds are slick folds, but…this belongs to someone _else._ Someone else who's gasping at the light touch Claude is using on him. 

"Put it in me."

"My fingers, or my dick?" 

"Doesn't matter, I just…feel really empty"

"Alright, I've got you." 

Claude slides a finger in, and then a second when he feels how loose Sylvain is. 

"Have you ever been this open before?" 

Sylvain opens his mouth to say something, but it turns into a keen when Claude crooks his fingers. It causes Sylvain's scent to become even stronger around them, and Claude let's out a deep growl. He lurches forward and steals Sylvain's mouth in a kiss before he can try speaking again. 

Their tongues move against each other as Claude continues to finger Sylvain. Spurred on by his moans and his scent, Claude lightly grinds against Sylvain's thigh. It helps to take the edge off, but the pheromones are still clouding his head and better judgement. Something in Claude's brain demands he spreads the fingers inside Sylvain, so he does. Sylvain responds with a particularly high moan, and Claude feels like he blacks out for a moment. The next thing he knows, he's lined up with Sylvain's entrance, and pushing in. 

When Claude slides in, the first thought he has, if it can be called that, is " _warm_ ". The second is " _more_ ", which leads to him rolling his hips before Sylvain's ready. The moment he lets out a sharper cry than what's warranted for pleasure, Claude snaps out of it. 

"Sorry, sorry! Pheromones got to me a bit." 

"No no, I get it. I'm having trouble keeping a clear head, too." 

Claude looks down at their predicament. "Do you want me to pull out? I didn't really…ask."

"You can stay in. I probably would've asked anyway."

Claude smiles, and takes Sylvain’s hand in his own. He goes to say something, but the thought leaves his head when Sylvain clenches down on him. “Fuh-uck, you’re tight.”

“And you’re big, how do you fit in your pants?”

“Could ask you the same thing, kinda glad I don’t have that thing in me tonight.”

“...fuck, I have something in me, don’t I?” Sylvain starts to laugh. “Goddess, this is so _weird._ ”

“Do you want to stop?”

Sylvain shakes his head. “If anything,” he says as he rocks against Claude and takes his breath away, “I want you to move.”

And oh, does Claude listen to that request. Despite the amount of slick that had built up before, it's still a little difficult to get started. Sylvain's tight, and even if he's clearly enjoying it, his body is putting up resistance. The stretch has to hurt, and yet Sylvain isn't complaining. 

It doesn’t take long to build up to a bruising pace, rocking with Sylvain like a boat on stormy waters. They hold onto each other as lifelines, leaving crescent-shaped marks on backs and scratches on arms. There's no one else right now, just Sylvain. Just his alpha. 

Alpha. 

This is an alpha. He shouldn't be doing this, Sylvain's probably only going along with it to be nice. They should both be courting omega's, trying to get a Garland. That's what they're supposed to do. Any minute now he'll-

  
  


"Claude? Claude, buddy, you good?" Sylvain pats Claude's cheek. 

Claude blinks, coming back to himself. "Huh?" 

"You stopped moving and kinda blanked out. What's up?" 

"I-...I don't know. I think I'm having second thoughts."

"Do you want to stop?" 

"I mean, we're supposed to court omegas. Can you even get mated to an alpha?"

"Our instincts certainly seem to think so. And anyway, I didn't ask what we're supposed to do. I'm asking what _you_ want." 

Claude pauses. What _does_ he want? Does he really want this? Is it just rut?

"Hey, hey…c'mere." Sylvain pulls his face closer. His eyes are just this side of glassy, and he's running warmer than normal. "How about we just make out for a bit? Would that make you feel better?" 

"Maybe it would," Claude sighs. "I just feel…scared, I guess." He feels his dick twitch. "And horny, can't forget horny."

"Well, just stay with me, and relax, okay? I've got you."

They make out, like Sylvain suggested. It's…nice. It distracts Claude from the confusion he's feeling, the revulsion he feels at himself, and that alone makes him feel better. He still has that feeling that they shouldn't be doing this, but the more they kiss, the more it quiets down. Sylvain is rubbing his back with one hand, and the other hand is on the back of his head, playing with his hair. 

Claude touches Sylvain back, revels in how his breath hitches when he touches his shoulders. The small sigh when Claude rubs his chest. The gasp when he grabs his ass. When Claude slips his tongue inside, Sylvain let's out a moan and clenches around him. Claude lets out a moan of his own, feeling himself get back into it with every noise and movement they make. Eventually, enough is enough, and he feels himself start to thrust again.

Claude didn't realize how much he ached until he convinced his body to move. Now that he's not in a frantic state of mind, he has time to absorb what he's feeling. The sweet, tight grip around his cock, how he's leaking from his own entrance. Sylvain's moans. It creates a feedback loop of sorts, with Claude going a little faster, a little harder, at every sound Sylvain makes. 

At some point, Claude bites Sylvain on the shoulder, on his neck, almost at the scent gland before Sylvain stops him with his own neck bite. Apparently that’s what it takes to set Claude off, because he can feel his knot starting to swell.

"Sylvain, I'm-" 

"Keep going, I can-I can take it." 

"But what if-" 

"I'll kick you if it becomes too much."

It's with that that Claude let's go. He feels his knot swell as he fills Sylvain up, pumping him full of come. Is _this_ what all the alphas rave about? Goddess, he can definitely see why. It's fulfilling this _urge_ he didn't even know he had, something primal within him finally sated. 

Claude's vaguely aware of Sylvain's keening moans beneath him, and so he squeezes Sylvain's own forming knot to help him along. He feels it swell fully, and Sylvain's high-pitched gasps pierce through the fog in his brain and go right to his dick. 

When Claude is finally able to think clearly again, he nuzzles Sylvain on the cheek. Sylvain is tight around him, on his knot. It feels amazing, warming him through and comforting him in the best of ways, but at the same time… 

"You okay?" 

"Mmf… Feels tight." 

"Does it hurt?" 

Sylvain gives his hand a squeeze, "A bit, but it's fine. You're fine. Don't try to pull out until you go down, okay?" 

Claude nods, and leans his forehead against Sylvain's. "I don't think I've ever felt so _right_." 

"Same here," Sylvain sighs. "It's…calming. Being full like this."

"Even if it hurts a bit?" 

"Yeah. It's…a good kind of pain, in a way. Grounding." 

Claude nods, and breathes in Sylvain’s scent again. “While I can still think clearly, what happens tomorrow?”

“Now that I’ve experienced this...I’m not sure how I could enjoy being with an omega…and we definitely smell like eachother now, and with the bites…” Sylvain takes in a deep breath, maybe taking in Claude’s scent too. “Is it possible for two alphas to live as mates?”

What Sylvain suggests makes Claude's brain short circuit. He's never really heard of such a thing, but the idea…what would it even look like? Who would build the nest? Would there be two? None at all? Who would take charge? 

Would he enjoy it, no matter what form it took? 

“I...I wish I knew. But I think that’s what I want.”

"...how about we talk about this later? I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted." A yawn comes immediately after, as if punctuating Sylvain's point. 

Claude hums, "Sounds like a plan. Sounds like…a plan…" 

Claude rolls them both onto their sides, careful not to pull on the knot too much, and snuggles into Sylvain. They're asleep before either of their knots deflate. 


	2. The Immediate Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite not technically exchanging mating bites, Sylvain moves in with Claude. Oh, the scandal!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks once again to my Beta and test readers from last time (MedusianAlllure and Phoenix for betas, and Pipes for test reading). Also thanks to Medusa again, as well as user fearlesswindy, for giving me ideas on how to wreck a mattress!

Immediate scandal is avoided in the morning by virtue of Claude being an early riser. Even though they didn't exchange mating bites, there's no way they could play it off like nothing happened; two completely unrelated alphas smelling like each other is going to at least turn a few heads. So, Claude wakes up Sylvain, and voices his suggestion. 

"We need to pack up. At least if we leave now, we won't be immediately ganged up on by literally everyone."

"The church betas probably already saw us, Claude. Or somebody heard us."

"Oh, I know that. But do you want to be caught in the middle of the biggest scandal of the century and have to answer for it in the moment, when everyone wakes up? Or would you rather take some time to regroup and come up with a plan?" 

Sylvain thinks for a moment, then hums, "You make a fair point, Von Reigan. Where will we go?" 

"Not to pressure you or anything, but there's an old Reigan property hidden away from most towns. We could stay there for a while."

"I'm just glad you didn't suggest Gautier. My father would probably literally murder me if he smelled me like this." 

After a hasty cleanup, they each go pack up their own nests. The nauseous feeling from before returns to Claude. He's bringing an _alpha_ home. Is this political suicide? Did he just ruin his whole career? Oh God, Hilda and Lorenz…they'll have his head, won't they? At the very least their parents will. Count Gloucester will have a field day about this, probably use it to try and uppend him from the head of the Alliance. His claim was already shaky, he came out of nowhere. Deviating from the norm like this…at least Granddad Reigan isn't here to yell at him about it. 

… 

The ride home is a quiet one. Claude takes his wyvern, Sylvain his horse. He sees Sylvain staring at him, more often than not, but that's probably only because Claude himself is staring at Sylvain. He has his eyes on the road, of course, no use running his wyvern into a tree. But when he doesn't, he finds his gaze wandering to the redhead _alpha_ he had _sex_ with last night. 

They break for the afternoon, gathering things for lunch. Claude picks herbs, and Sylvain goes off for a while and comes back with a skinned rabbit. The two rig up a makeshift pan to fry the rabbit, and Claude chops up the herbs on a separate rock. 

When he goes to put the herbs in the pan, his hand brushes against Sylvain's, and electricity ripples through him in that split second of contact. Claude nearly gasps from how… _intense_ it all suddenly was. Did Sylvain feel the same? He doesn't mention it, either way. 

After the rabbit is cooked and portions have been divvied out, Sylvain speaks up. "So, are we mates now?" 

"Ah...hm.” _He should be scented more like me, I should've bit him, he should-_ “I guess we are." 

"You don't sound very enthusiastic about it."

"It's been a very eventful few days, I'm still trying to take it all in. I mean, I knew I had to 'fulfill my duty' or whatever, take on an omega…" Claude leans back against the tree he's sitting near, and shrugs. "Something you said last night, when we…you told me that you didn't want to know what society wanted, but what I wanted."

"Yeah? What about it?"

Claude catches a whiff of the cold air from Sylvain’s scent, and holds his breath for a moment before speaking. "I guess I really don't know what I want. At least when it comes to this."

"Oh, I feel you there." Sylvain puts his bowl down. "To tell you the truth, today's been a ride on an unbroken horse. I was fine last night, I think rut was a part of that, but I keep feeling like I'm doing something wrong." 

Claude snorts, "Considering the context, that's pretty funny, coming from you. I doubt knotting omegas before we were old enough to participate in mating season counts as 'right' by noble standards." 

Sylvain's easy smile goes a little strained. "Believe it or not, I've never actually knotted anyone." 

"Wait, seriously?" 

"Seriously. I was a heat chaser, sure, but I never got much farther than feeling someone up. Never had a relationship last long enough for that." 

"Huh. I'm surprised you're telling me this." 

"We've already had-...we've already done stuff, it's not like I need to impress you with that." 

"Heh, yeah, I guess not." Claude sighs. "Could we just…take it one day at a time? I'm not really sure how I feel about this all yet." 

"Mm...yeah, I think that can be arranged. We have the next month and a half off, anyway; most people will be too busy with their omegas to go after us, at least for a while."

Claude stuffs the rest of the rabbit pieces in his mouth, and nods. 

… 

The old Reigan property is…well, old. It was a vacation house for Grandad Reigan and his children, and then just Grandad Reigan in the later years. Still, it's well kept considering the circumstances, it's not about to collapse and kill either of them. Claude knows that a groundskeeper and a couple cleaners show up every once in a while to keep the place in order, but other than that, they'll be alone. 

"Excuse me for not giving a proper tour, I haven't been here often. Grandad tended to come by himself."

"It's fine, it's not a huge place. I'm sure we can figure it out." 

The first thing they do is inspect whatever's in the house. A quick check of the kitchen reveals little food in the pantry. Claude's not surprised; he's pretty sure whatever food is there was brought over by the staff hired for upkeep. It can be worked around. There's some dishes and cookware in decent condition, and the stove and oven are clean. 

"The furniture in the drawing room seems alright!" Sylvain calls from the hallway. "There's a chair that might need a little support under the leg to keep it from rocking, but nothing felt ready to give out."

"Everything looks good in the kitchen, but we'll need to get more food. There's enough for today, but we'll need to figure it out soon," Claude calls back. 

"...you know, that just made me realize how hungry I am. What do we have?" Sylvain comes into the kitchen, leaning on the counter as Claude goes through the pantry. He’s leaning towards Claude, and Claude’s hair is standing on end. His alpha instinct whispers to pounce. Memories from last night threaten to leak forth, _he’s almost close enough to-_

"I have some eggs, here, and I think I saw some spinach in the garden…do scrambled eggs and vegetables sound okay to you?" Claude focuses on the eggs, not on Sylvain. Not on Sylvain.

"Fine by me, friend. I'll go check out the rest of the house while you get that ready. Sound good?" 

"You got it." 

… 

"So, what're we going to do about bedrooms?" 

The question comes…perhaps not unexpectedly, but definitely out of left field, in the middle of dinner. Claude clears his throat. "How do you mean?" 

"I've checked the beds in this place. Two are child-sized, so, kind of bad for us. There's the guest room with a double bed. And then there's the King-sized bed in the master bedroom."

"Well, what's the trouble? One of us will take the double, the other the master." 

Sylvain winces. "The double didn't smell right." 

"...It didn't...smell right."

"It smelt…off. Musty, wet, rotten. I couldn't tell you for sure, but I think there's mould in it. Also, there were some suspicious stains?" 

"Okay, fair enough." Claude sighs and puts a hand to his head. "Well, that certainly puts a damper on things…" 

"It's fine, I can sleep on one of the sofas in the drawing room, you take the master."

"What? No, no, you're the guest here. Besides, you'll wreck your back, that's bad for paladins. You take the master, I'll take the sofa."

"A ruined back is probably worse for a wyvern rider, you're literally flying around."

"How about I nest on the floor then?" 

"Claude, that feels like it'd be wrong on multiple levels. And also really rude on my part. Plus, we've been sleeping on the ground for multiple days. Neither of us are sleeping on the floor if I can help it." 

"Well, I'd be a terrible host if I subjected my guest to back problems." 

"And I'd be a terrible guest if I made you get those same back problems for my comfort." 

"Tch," Claude twirls his fork in his hand, "It seems we're at an impasse here, friend." 

"It seems we are." 

Claude and Sylvain stare at each other for a few seconds, their smiles slowly fall off their faces. Staring at Sylvain’s face for too long makes Claude remember the noises he made last night, so he looks away. Sylvain rubs the back of his neck and clears his throat. "Well…"

"Yes." Claude looks to the side. There's silence for a little while, Claude can hear Sylvain swallow and tap his fingers on the table. Claude scratches his heel against his shin, suddenly feeling itchy. Sylvain is…weirdly cute. Tapping as a nervous tic? Who'd ever think of it? Is that a normal thing to think about someone you almost mate bit last night? That's also a member of your second sex? 

"We could…" 

"Could what?" Claude's heart rate picks up a bit. 

"Y'know…it's a big bed, and all…" 

"O-oh! Yeah, we could." Claude can't tell if his stomach sinks, or creates butterflies. 

"Only if you're comfortable, of course!" 

"Are you comfort-" 

"Yeah, fine! Totally comfortable! You?" 

"Oh, yeah! More comfortable than a wyvern in the sky!" Claude stands, slamming his hands on the table. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go check on that mattress. The one with the wrong-smelling smell. Which is why we're sharing a bed." 

"Gotcha!" Sylvain says, with his own plastered-on smile, "I'm going to clean up the drawing room! Can't have a place too clean, you know." 

"Yyyyyep!" Claude marches off, down to the bedroom, before Sylvain can reply. 

… 

As it turns out, Sylvain's right. The mattress really does have mould in it. It also smells vaguely of old soap; Claude can only guess that someone tried to clean the stains out and failed spectacularly. 

On a completely unrelated note, Claude feels like he needs to wash his hands, and never stop. 

… 

Claude and Sylvain both get to the bedroom at about the same time that night. Both are carrying an armful of material, soft and plush, scented by their owners. Shirts, jackets, blankets... _their nest materials_. 

Claude looks at Sylvain, then the things in his arms, then back at Sylvain again. Sylvain's doing the same thing. Claude clears his throat, "Maybe we should've talked more about this." 

"Yeah, might've been a good thing to do." Sylvain rolls his shoulders. "How about we just go bare bed? Y’know, no nest? Like kids?" 

"It'll feel weird, but I don't see much other choice." 

Claude enters the master bedroom first, and deposits his things in a heap underneath the vanity. Sylvain goes to the other part of the room, to the little seating area, and starts neatly folding his things, before placing them in a couple orderly stacks. 

"Jeez, you have the patience for that?" 

"I like having things tidy, is all." Sylvain looks over at Claude. "I take it you're a messy person, then?" 

"You could say that."

"Oh boy…just, try to keep it to your side of the room."

"Okay, okay, I'll do my best." 

Claude goes into the bathroom to change into pajamas, mostly to have first dibs on washing his face. He'll have to run a bath tomorrow to get the sweat off, but at this point, he honestly just wants to go to bed. 

Claude comes back into the bedroom. Sylvain is shirtless. He tries to ignore that, and crawls under the covers without looking at Sylvain. He stares at the ceiling as Sylvain crawls in beside him. The mattress dips with his weight, but he stays a respectable distance away. Still, Claude catches the cinnamon of his scent in the air, and he feels himself squirm. 

"You okay? I can feel you moving around." 

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just…not used to sharing a bed with someone." 

"Mm. I promise it's usually more fun than this." 

Claude runs his thumb along the edge of the blanket he's under, feeling the fine texture of the fabric there. "What did you normally do in bed, with other people?" 

"Make out. Grope. Cuddle, if I really liked them, but that was rare." 

Claude looks at Sylvain from the corner of his eye, but sees that Sylvain is looking at him, so looks away again. 

"Have you ever cuddled with anyone, Claude?" 

Claude shakes his head, "Nah. After the first explosion in my dorm, people tended to keep their distance, and I never really sought it out, so." 

"I remember that! The look on Seteth's face is something I'll never forget, he was so _red_!" Sylvain laughs. "What were you even doing in there?" 

"Oh, you know, just cooking something up." 

"Cooking? Maybe I shouldn't have trusted you in the kitchen."

"I think my skills have marginally improved since then." Claude winks at the ceiling, even if Sylvain can't see him. 

"I think it was more than a margin, those eggs were really good. I dunno if you used a specific recipe, or if you're just that good at cooking eggs, but they were great! It's not something I normally reach for, but I kind of want them for breakfast tomorrow, now."

Ckaude blushes, and he tries not to think about why, "A-ah, thank you."

"Anyway, goodnight, Claude. See in the morning, alright?" 

Claude turns on his side, away from Sylvain. "Yeah. Yeah, see you in the morning." 

Claude sits there for quite a while, his head buzzing with thoughts about the fact he feels butterflies from an alpha complimenting his eggs. He tries not to think about the fact that Sylvain is awake, too, if his breathing is any indication. 

_He cuddles people he likes..._

Claude can’t tell if he’s actually feeling the warmth from Sylvain’s back, or if he’s just hypersensitive to him being there. 

_Making out, groping..._

Claude finds himself wanting to be touched. Not in any particular way, just...appreciated. What did those omegas feel when Sylvain was with them? Was it...good?

_Never knotted anyone..._

Fuck, was he supposed to knot Sylvain the way he did? Did that emasculate Sylvain in some way? He doesn’t seem bothered by it, or at least is doing a good job of hiding it, but that doesn’t mean Claude didn’t upset him in some way. Should he ask?

Claude turns over a bit, to look at Sylvain, but the second he sees red hair, he loses his nerve, rolls back over and stares at the wall. Neither of them mention it, so there's only the deafening thoughts in his head to lull Claude to sleep. 


	3. A Week's To-Do List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week of Claude and Sylvain's life, doing important things together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once again to my betas (Medusa and Phoenix as always) and my test reader, Pipes!
> 
> Also, uh, shout out to an irl friend of mine. She's never played FE3H, or any fire emblem game that I know of, but I showed her this fic on a whim and now she's invested. You know who you are, friend, I know you're reading this right now :P

  1. _Get rid of the mouldy mattress._



Claude couldn't get a straight story out of the two housekeepers about who caused the mattress to go mouldy. They kept talking in circles and blaming each other, and so, Claude decided to fire both of them. He felt bad, but at the same time, there's no way he's putting up with this. 

Thankfully, the groundskeeper, an older beta lady named Agnes, was more than happy to help get rid of the mattress. Sylvain stays off to the side, cleaning up the rest of the room while Claude and Agnes get to work. 

"I can chop this up, and then make a bonfire to burn it up for you," Agnes says. "It's a shame those lovelies didn't properly clean this thing; it's a decent mattress, and they were nice people." 

Claude shrugs, "Well, what can you do, right?" 

The mattress is difficult to navigate through the narrow halls, but Sylvain is one step ahead of them, moving tables and vases as needed for them to get it outside. 

"I'm surprised your…'friend' isn't helping us with the mattress itself." Agnes says, and they get it closer to the front door. 

Claude shrugs, "I think it's less that he won't, and more that he _can't_ ." Claude saw how Sylvain reacted to the mattress when he had to be near it to help clear the area around the bed, so it could be removed. If he even came close to touching it, he'd grimace and shy away from the thing, almost _afraid_ of it. "He's trying his best." 

"If you're sure," Agnes says. "I just figured a second alpha in the house would want to help with the direct removal, rather than just get things out of the way for us." 

Claude feels his face go sour, "You know, I don't pay you for your opinions, Agnes." 

She shrugs, "I suppose you're right."

Claude catches Sylvain smile at him, from the corner of his eye. 

  1. ~~_Hire new staff_~~ _Decide if new staff should be hired._



"I mean, it'd definitely be nice to have some help around the house," Sylvain says, "but the more people involved with this, the more of a headache it'll be. I don't know why you're asking me this, though, you're the one who owns the place."

"I might have my last name on the deed, but you could be negatively impacted by this decision, so not including you would be awful of me." 

"Fair enough, honestly. That's nice of you." 

Claude nods, and hums. "Well, if we want to cut down on staff," he says, "I think it would come down to what we can do ourselves, versus what we'd need help with." 

"Alright, let's make a list then." Sylvain takes a pencil and notebook out from the side table. "Let's see...basic chores, let's start with that."

"I can do cooking, I'm decent enough at it." 

"I don't think 'decent' is doing you justice, but whatever. I watch you make our food, you could probably out-cook Dedue."

"Is he a good cook?" 

"He helped make a lot of the food during mating season, like, directly. You be the judge of that." 

Claude's not sure how much he wants to read into that comment. Thankfully, Sylvain picks the conversation right back up. "You can wash dishes too, right?" 

With that, Claude clears his throat and sinks right back into his groove. "Can't be too different from washing out beakers, so sure. Basic cleaning around the house?" 

Sylvain hums, "I can do pretty much all of it, this isn't a big place, as long as you don't leave everything lying around everywhere."

"Oh boy, you would've _hated_ my room back at the monastery."

Sylvain frowns now, his tone a bit more serious than before "If you explode this house, I won't be very happy." Claude grips the armrest of his chair a little tighter, _is this what sexy is?_

"I wouldn't be happy either, trust me." Claude swallows, and wills his hand to unclench itself. "Anyway, you do the cleaning, I won't make a lot of messes. Got it." 

Sylvain scribbles it down into his notebook. Claude notices the way Sylvain bites his lip while he's writing, and it makes him feel a little warm for reasons he doesn't want him to interpret. "Grocery shopping," Sylvain says, "are you okay with doing that?" 

"Uhh…I'll be honest, I'm slightly worried about that? If only because rumours spread fast, and even if local nobility are _busy_ , all it takes is a letter to one of the Alliance members to start getting questioned."

"Gossipy area?" 

"The whole Alliance is a gossipy area, I wouldn't be surprised if Lord Gloucester runs his own gossip column in the newspaper." 

Sylvain winces, "Yikes." 

"It's…not pleasant."

"Anyway, extra help. A good weekly salary will help keep them quiet, I'd think. Cheaper to buy off one person than a whole town." 

"Alright, we're hiring on at least one person then."

"I'll add them as a category on the list," Sylvain says. "Gardening?" 

"Most of that is already handled by the groundskeeper, so I don't think we have to worry about it." 

"I mean…" Sylvain looks at Claude's shoulders, "If she ever needs help, I'd say you're pretty strong. Don't let Agnes throw out her back, alright?" 

Did Sylvain just compliment him? Again? Claude quickly changes the subject, "I can do laundry." 

“...I’m doing laundry.” Sylvain makes direct eye-contact with Claude as he says it, with a face so determined that it makes Claude shudder.

“What? No, I’ll do laundry.”

“No no, it’s fine, I’m great at doing laundry.”

Claude raises an eyebrow, “Well, so am I. I’ve been doing it for years.”

Sylvain scoffs, “Try me. I’ve done it since I was twelve.”

“Ten.”

“I’ve perfected stain removal down to a science, with no one ever even knowing there was even a stain.”

“I’ve perfectly formulated a soap that has both strong cleaning power, and is gentle on sensitive skin.”

“Oh, actually?’ Sylvain says in surprise, “I could use that.”

“Anyway!” Claude says, “How’s about a challenge?”

“A challenge?” Sylvain laughs, “What’s it gonna be?”

  1. _Prove to Sylvain That I’m the Best Launderer Here_



Claude rubs the white shirt in the dirt, stomps on it a few times, anything to get it as dirty as possible. Once he deems it dirty enough, he takes it over to Sylvain, who's also dirtied up a shirt. 

"Whoever gets the shirt the cleanest, is the best at doing laundry," Claude reminds him, as they switch shirts. Claude tries to ignore the shudder that runs through him when they brush hands again. 

Sylvain grins, "You may as well forfeit now, I've got this in the bag." 

"Oh, just you wait!" Claude says, as he goes over to his own laundry bin, and starts liberally adding in soap. 

Claude tries to focus on washing, he really does, but something about Sylvain…'s technique is catching his eye. Sylvain puts his back into scrubbing down the short and getting stains out, his muscles moving with the effort of working out dirt and grime and the one or two grass stains Claude managed to get in there. 

When Sylvain glances at him, Claude meets his gaze, and smirks at him. Sylvain winks at him, but Claude still catches the up-and-down glance Sylvain gives Claude's body. He's thankful that hikes currently up to his elbows in washing water, because otherwise, he might overheat, just from that. 

Claude never really considered how _powerful_ Sylvain's muscles were until now, as he puts his full weight into washing. Claude's not weak by any stretch of the imagination, bows and wyvern riding require good muscles, but Sylvain is almost certainly stronger, could win easily in a straight wrestling match against him. He might not even need to put much effort into it, just grabbing his wrists, and pinning them, and then-

That's enough studying technique for now. Back to washing. 

_Sylvain's looking-_

Back to washing. 

…

Both shirts hang on the line, completely dry. Both are pristine. _Exactly the same_ amount of pristine. 

Sylvain winces, and pats Claude on the back, to which Claude has to hold back a flinch. "How about we just do laundry together?" 

Claude sighs and nods. Sylvain's touch almost gives him a heart attack, and he doesn't want to think about how, for just a second, it was the only thing in his mind. 

  1. _Cool Sylvain Down_



It's warmer on Wednesday than it has been the rest of the week. Claude would have thought nothing of it if Sylvain hadn't started complaining and...well...

"Dear Goddess," Sylvain says as he throws off his overshirt, "it's roasting here! Claude, how are you fine with this?" 

"I mean, Leicester's always been warmer, I'm just used to it." Claude tries to ignore the fact that Sylvain being down to his smalls and an undershirt actually does make him a little overheated. 

Sylvain groans, "This is torture…it's going to be even worse during the Blue Sea and Verdant Rain Moons, isn't it?" 

"Yep, unfortunately." _Should I be happy or mortified that Sylvain is almost naked in front of me?_

Sylvain let's out a long whine, and flops himself over the back of the couch. "I'm going to dieeeeeeee."

"No you won't," Claude sighs, "If only because I don't want to deal with a corpse in my house."

"I'll choose somewhere else to die then. Maybe the woods? At least I'd have the shade…" 

It's then that Claude remembers something critical. "Sylvain, do you know how to swim?" 

… 

The river isn't moving very fast today. The tranquil water shows an almost perfect reflection of the sky and trees, with only the occasional ripple to disturb it. Claude lays out a blanket for him to relax on, while Sylvain strips down to his underwear again; he'd gotten properly dressed for coming down here. 

"Not coming in for a swim?" Sylvain asks him, "I bet it's great!" 

"Nah, I'm fine with watching. Maybe I'll come in later, if the mood strikes me." 

Sylvain shrugs, and all but cannonballs into the river. 

Claude's happy to read his book in the shade while Sylvain splashes around. The man can swim well enough, though he's clearly not used to it; the muscles in his back pull and stretch as he does a breast stroke in the somewhat shallower part of the water, it'd come up to about the end of Sylvain's sternum if he stood up. His hair is already soaked, clinging to the sides of his face and dripping with river water. The drops make his skin shine, further accenting the way his muscles move. And he sounds like he's having fun, too. Sylvain's laughter has a slight echo to it, travelling through trees and open air. He turns to float on his back, staring up at the clouds, the sun catching the drops of water on his face-

Wait, he was reading a book, wasn't he? 

Claude chose a love story to bring along; not his usual fare, in fact he almost dislikes romance novels, it was just the least-unattractive option in the library. Apparently, one of the Riegans was a big fan of romantic pirate stories. Claude likes to imagine it was Grandad Riegan specifically, if only for the image of it. 

The book isn't…the worst. Just somewhat cliché. Big strong male alpha learns of the love a small female omega can give him, a saccharine tale told many times before Claude was born, and one that will be told many times after he's dead.

It'll always be the same. Alpha and omega. Alpha and omega. Tales of two alphas aren't told, if they ever existed at all. The things Claude felt That Night, the turmoil he has now…none of this is normal. _He's_ not normal. Neither is Sylvain. And people don't listen to those who are abnormal. Not without more hardship than the already difficult struggle Claude was preparing for, for his dream of open borders. 

Claude looks at Sylvain swimming around in the water, then looks back down at his book. He'd never thought much about romance when he was young, even back in Almyra, where the omegas were also strong. Assuming Sylvain would want to be…mated to him, would he expect Claude to submit like an omega? Claude did make Sylvain submit after all, kind of, when they did…

It's never happening again. It's never happening again and Claude's surprised it even worked at all to begin with. It was just a fluke, that had to be it. Sylvain could leave, if he wanted to. Claude could kick him out, _should_ kick him out, he's a foreign alpha who's living in Claude's home, and yet…he doesn't want to. Or at least, can't bring himself to do it. 

Maybe reading romance right now was a bad idea. 

"Hey Claude, look what I found." Sylvain comes over to Claude, carrying something in his hand. Claude looks up from the book he was reading, only to see a greenish rock in Sylvain's hand. It's definitely a very striking rock, not your average pebble, but Claude isn't initially sure why Sylvain brought it to him. 

"Oh, that's pretty. You find it on the bank?"

Sylvain nods, "It made me think of your eyes." Sylvain brings up Claude's hand. He places the rock in Claude's palm, and closes his fingers around it. "Keep it, yeah?" Sylvain gives him a smile, then runs back into the lake for more fun. 

Claude feels the flush of his face, he's sure Sylvain had to notice it too. Why did that get his heart pounding? All over a silly rock? 

_Wait, is this a courting gift?_

No, no, it can't be. They're two alphas. No. It's not possible Sylvain would… 

Even later that night, when Claude carefully places the rock on his nightstand so that it won't get knocked off by anything else, he's not sure what to make of it. 

  1. _Teach Sylvain El-quirkat_



Sylvain takes it upon himself to catalogue the board games and cards in the house, while having Claude write a list of what's available. A lot of them are so old, they're missing pieces. It's a shame, really; Claude almost got excited when he saw the chessboard, only to find that there was a grand total of 3 black pieces and 2 white pieces in the box. 

"Damn, no offense Claude, but your family really didn't take care of their board games."

"None taken, if only because I'm just as frustrated as you are. Seriously, who just _loses_ pieces to a chessboard like _that_?!" Claude gestures to the carved patterns on the size of the board, stylistic stags and flowers and fruit. 

"If the artist ever learned of it, they'd probably be furious. I know I would be." Then, a different board catches Sylvain's attention. "Huh, I don't think I've ever seen this one before…" 

"What is it?" 

Sylvain takes out the board, and Claude knows it immediately. 

"Oh! I haven't seen this game in _years_ ." he takes the board from Sylvain. "It's called _El-quirkat._ It's from Almyra, you probably wouldn't know it."

"Almyra? I thought Leicester hated those guys?" 

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean we don't steal their best stuff." Claude opens the back of the board, and grins. "All the pieces are here. How about we play a few games? It's simple to learn." 

Sylvain purses his lips, just for a moment, then gets back into that easy smile of his. "Eh, why not?" 

Claude takes out all the pieces-twelve black, and twelve white-but doesn't set up the board quite yet, simply placing it down on the table. "So basically, you're trying to capture your enemy's pieces, while protecting your own pieces from capture."

"Like checkers?" 

"Yep, like checkers. But you can only move on the lines. And only one space at a time." Claude demonstrates with the pieces as he talks, "and you jump over other pieces to capture them, like in checkers." 

"Alright, any other rules?" 

"If you can capture a piece, you have to capture it, and you can't move back on a spot you were just in." 

"Okay, cool. So who goes first?" 

"You have a coin?" 

Claude ends up being the one to go first, so he let's Sylvain win the first round to get used to the mechanics. He knows Sylvain knows he threw the match. Neither of them mention it. 

"Too easy!" Sylvain says, stretching. "How about another round?" 

"Be careful what you wish for."

Claude wins the next two matches, since Sylvain ends up going first. It has Sylvain gritting his teeth, but Claude doesn't hold it against him; _El-quirkat_ is one of those games where it's not so fun if you're particularly good or bad at it. Still, it's a game he remembers fondly. 

"I used to play this with my dad all the time," Claude finds himself saying as he takes another one of Sylvain's pieces. 

"Really?" Sylvain huffs a laugh, "Couldn't tell." he moves another piece. 

"Practice makes perfect, as they say. I think it was his way to teach me strategy, to think outside the box." 

"If I played this as a kid, I think the only thing it would've taught me is to be okay with being bald. I would've pulled my hair out." 

"Think of it this way," Claude says, as he wins the game, "You can play it with someone else, and watch them blow up when you win."

That does crack a smile out of Sylvain. He ends up winning the next match, and the whoop he lets out has Claude's sides splitting. 

  1. _Bedtime_



Claude doesn't know what time it is, or how long he's been asleep for, but it's dark enough out to know that it's too late for having lanterns lit. And yet, that's what Sylvain has done, with a lantern placed in the middle of the table at the little seating area. Everything below the red tuft of Sylvain's hair is blocked from Claude's immediate view, but he can hear the scratching of a quill on paper. 

"Sylvain?" Claude calls, a hair above a whisper. Sylvain turns around, shock on his face. 

"Ah! Sorry Claude, did I wake you?" he also speaks in a hushed tone, even as Claude realizes there's literally no one else in the house. 

"No, no, you're fine." Actually, Claude realizes he's thirsty, and that it's probably the real reason why he woke up. "I think I'm gonna go get a glass of water, do you want one too?" 

Sylvain nods, then goes back to writing out whatever he's working on. 

It doesn't take long for Claude to come back with the water. It's obvious which glass belongs to Sylvain, because Claude's is already halfway empty, so Claude places the full glass next to Sylvain's ink bottle. 

"So, not to be nosey," Claude says as he settles behind Sylvain, "but what are you writing about at Wyvern's ass in the morning?" 

Sylvain sighs, "Everyone back in Faerghus will probably be a bit concerned with me not coming back after mating season."

"We _did_ leave pretty early in, you're right." Claude gulps down more of his water, "Are you gonna tell them where you are?" 

"Debating it. I might say I'm in Leicester, but I dunno about telling them I'm with you, yet." 

"That's fair. Who's this one gonna go to?" 

"Felix, I feel like he's most likely to come looking for me first," Sylvain says.

"It always looked like he hated you back at the academy, you sure about that?" 

Sylvain scoffs, "He's just prickly. If he wanted to avoid me, he would." 

"If you say so." Claude downs the rest of his water. "How long have you been up?" 

"A while."

"A while?" 

"Hours, minutes, days, weeks…" Sylvain makes a dismissive gesture with his hand, "they're all meaningless constructs we use to measure time because we need meaning in this world." 

"Not that I don't agree with you, but I feel like you're only saying that because it's late and you're tired."

"So what if I am. Can't sleep." Sylvain finally takes a sip of his water, and he looks at Claude like he wants to say something, but doesn't voice it. 

Well, Claude's not going to force this man to reveal his secrets. "Fair enough." He stretches, "I'm going back to bed, are you coming with?" 

"I might."

"...well, just get some sleep, okay? At some point tonight." 

Claude crawls back under the covers. In the morning, Sylvain is still asleep in his chair, and the glass is empty. 

  1. _Discuss the next steps_



Saturday is a nice day, not quite hot enough to have Sylvain start complaining. So, Claude takes a walk into the garden, and he finds Sylvain trailing behind him not long after. They meet on a stone bench on one corner of the property, partially obscured from outside view by hedges surrounding the area. 

"So. We should talk. About later." Claude finds himself scratching his shin with his heel again. 

"When we're expected to go back to work, you mean."

"Yeah, that." 

"Well, my current plan is to stay out of Gautier for a while. As long as I don't smell like a foreign alpha, My Father will probably be willing to forget about this long enough to not murder me. Whether I stay here indefinitely or you kick me out, I'll have to do that."

Claude's eyebrows go up in surprise, "You thought I was going to kick you out?" maybe Claude shouldn't be surprised, he knows that it's weird to just have a random alpha in your house, even one you _did things_ with, but Claude didn't think he'd said or done anything yo make Sylvain too worried about that. 

"Oh! No, no, it's not like that. It's just something I had to account for, you know? In case I overstayed my welcome. Or got tired of the heat." 

"Well, I can't really say I'd be any better, planning for anything is just something I do. But I think it'd be horrible of me to kick you out. It's my fault you're in this mess anyway." 

"Your fault? I was the one who asked you to dance." 

"Well, why did you ask me?" 

Sylvain looks away, and has to take a few moments to think it through before he answers. "I'll be honest, I…I wasn't sure at the time. I knew I liked how you danced. I thought…maybe I wanted to learn from you, and that's why I kept finding myself looking towards where you were. 

"And then, I caught you alone, and I thought maybe we could practice together. And then I got turned on, and…" Sylvain chuckles and shakes his head. "I don't even know how I could've been so _dumb_ , like. 'Oh, I keep staring at this alpha, I can't stop thinking about the way he dances, that must mean I want to practice with him!'" 

"Well…" Claude sighs, "I've never seen two alphas…being together. Have you?" 

Sylvain shakes his head. "It's always just been Alphas and Omegas, or two Betas." 

"Then there's no real way you would've known. If it makes you feel any better, I didn't get it even after I got _boners_ for you." 

Sylvain laughs, but it's more nervous this time. Guilty. "That _definitely_ didn't happen to _me_ …"

Claude snorts, and they fall into silence. It's just them, the birds, the garden, and the sky. 

It's strange. Relatively speaking, Claude barely knows Sylvain, and yet…he feels at ease. There's a gentle breeze in the air, and cinnamon catches his nose again. He closes his eyes, and just breathes it in. 

Claude finds himself shifting closer, closer. When he opens his eyes again, he finds Sylvain staring at the sky, hands on the bench, perhaps lost in thought. 

He thinks back to the times Sylvain touched him. The brushes of hands, gentle pats on the back…the shock it gave Claude each time. 

He wants that feeling again. 

Claude shifts his hand over, ever so slowly, waiting for the moment Sylvain pulls away. But Sylvain never does, and the sides of their hands touch. Sylvain's head snaps towards Claude at the new contact, an expression of surprise on his features, but it quickly turns into a smile. Claude takes that as permission to slide his hand fully onto Sylvain's. Sylvain's smile gets a bit wider, and he readjusts so they're holding hands properly. 

"I'm not sure how we'll present ourselves when the time comes, how involved we'll be in each other's politics…" Claude gives Sylvain's hand a squeeze, "But I think I like this, right now." 

Sylvain sighs, returning the squeeze Claude gave him, "I think I like it too." 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> El-quirkat is an actual game, and is the predeceassor to checkers! I played a few games of it for research, and unfortunately, all the apps I found where you could play it either had downright *nasty* ai, or got the rules wrong, but it's simple enough that you could probably make a board and some pieces out of paper and bug a friend to play with you if you really wanted. If anyone makes or finds a decent online or mobile version of el-quirkat, feel free to mention it in the comments!


End file.
